Stars Like Us

by Frances Chapman

  There was a jagged pause. ‘Oh, is that the thing about being famous?’ they snapped. ‘Can you even hear yourself?’

  ‘What’s your problem?’ I said, trying to laugh it off.

  ‘I’m not the one with the problem. You have completely changed. You’ve changed your clothes, you’ve changed your name, and now you’re changing your whole personality. It’s one thing that you’re dating Carter – if being famous was what it took for him to notice you –’

  ‘Carter’s not with me because I’m famous –’

  ‘And now you’re also screwing Addie Marmoset,’ they said.

  ‘I’m not screwing Addie, I told you –’

  ‘You’re staying overnight at her house!’

  ‘We stayed up late talking. It was totally innocent.’

  ‘This isn’t like you, Liliana.’

  ‘No, it’s like you,’ I said. ‘I’m not usually the one with all the attention, is that what you’re saying? Poor Liliana doesn’t know how to put on make-up and doesn’t know which end of a dress goes over her head! Well, now I have people to do all that for me! Now I’m with the two hottest rock stars on the planet and you’re jealous.’

  I couldn’t believe I had said it. I instantly wanted to take it back. There was a sharp intake of breath and I started to apologise before they interrupted in a strangled voice. ‘I’m going to hang up now.’

  ‘Phoenix – I’m sorry –’

  But they were already gone. I threw the phone across the room and it landed on the vintage dressing table, scattering make-up and guitar picks everywhere. It wasn’t until I caught sight of my face in the mirror that I realised I was crying.

  •

  I texted Phoenix to apologise the next morning, but they didn’t respond. Days went by, and then weeks, and I still didn’t hear from them. At some point on one of their many nights out, Carter told Richie that we were together, and Richie teased me about it with a surprising amount of affection, as if we were really friends underneath it all. Beatnik released ‘Stargirl’ as the first single off Addie’s new album, and while I was out all day promoting the song, the boys were left to their own devices. Amir told them to get a head start on writing our next album, but I saw no evidence of it when I returned to our penthouse every night. Sam was always home, but I never knew if Carter would be. If I’d thought being in a relationship with me would make him curb his interest in clubbing, I was wrong. On the nights I went to bed alone, he would stumble into my room in the small hours, smelling of cigarettes and tasting of tequila.

  ‘So, your next move with Addie is a very public break-up, right?’ he said one night, stretched out on his stomach in my bed. The wide-open blinds cast slabs of streetlight across his body and I shifted against the pillows.

  ‘Yeah, or maybe a wedding spread for Hello!’

  ‘Don’t joke about that.’ He kissed my shoulder and I turned to kiss him properly. ‘I’m serious. I don’t want you to be with Addie.’

  ‘You know it’s just for the cameras,’ I said. For weeks, Carter had been pushing for me to end things with Addie, but this was the first time he’d been so upfront about it. It worried me: if the press found out I wasn’t really with Addie, both our careers and our reputations would be shot. His mood darkened, and I pushed him onto his back. ‘It’s not like how it is with you …’

  For a second he looked like he didn’t want to be distracted, then he went along with it. ‘Well, I’d bloody hope not.’

  •

  ‘Carter Tanqueray was up to his old tricks last night, leaving London nightspot MudDragon with a mysterious brunette beauty ...’ the article began. I scanned for her name, but there was nothing.

  It wasn’t until the end of the article that my own name was mentioned: ‘Lady Stardust singer Lily Donadi, who has been all over town this week promoting her new song “Stargirl” with girlfriend Addie Marmoset, was not invited.’

  Richie and Carter had gone out for a ‘few quiet ones’ when I’d been on Dennis Chang’s show with Addie last night. Carter had crawled into bed with me in the early hours of the morning and when I’d asked him how his night had been, he’d said, ‘It would have been better if you were there.’ The only thing stopping me from tearing him to shreds now was the fact that the whole band, plus Amir, were in the room with me – and Amir didn’t know Carter and I were together. I swallowed and looked up from the phone.

  Sam glanced at the picture, then at me. ‘Who’s the bird?’

  Carter seemed surprised to be asked that. I watched as he suddenly saw the picture through the eyes of someone who hadn’t been present when it was taken. ‘Oh. She’s no-one,’ he said. ‘How was I meant to know there was a camera?’

  ‘Give me strength,’ said Amir. ‘There is always a camera.’ He snatched the phone off me and shoved it in his pocket. ‘You’re pulling focus. Just when we need all eyes on Lily and Addie, you pull a stunt like that.’

  ‘I was just going out. I can’t help it if I was photographed.’

  ‘And they just happened to know where you were, did they? Must’ve been a slow news night,’ Amir commented. ‘You’re not exactly a big fish, you know.’

  He stalked out, clearly expecting us to fall into line behind him, but I was still frozen, my fingers knotted in my lap. Carter reached over and took hold of them, and when they didn’t loosen he put his hand on my knee instead.

  ‘I mean, we were just walking to the cab rank,’ he said, his gaze fixed on my face. ‘She was actually more interested in Richie, wasn’t she, mate?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Richie. ‘It’s my manly pheromones, I can’t keep them away.’

  I tried to calm down. I knew better than anyone that pictures could be misleading. But it wasn’t the girl that had been seared into my brain. It was Carter’s easy smile, the relaxed, confident way he flirted with the camera, and the words I’d written myself: He’s chasing the night but it’s never enough. As I’d said to Sam, no-one could say I wasn’t warned.

  CHAPTER 37

  I turned back to my reflection. Melody Nelson would be here in a few minutes to prepare me for Addie’s party, and my skin was still caked with television make-up. I pressed another wet wipe along my cheek, tan foundation coming off in strips. Carter hooked his arms around my waist, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

  ‘You don’t have to go tonight,’ he said into my neck. ‘Come up to Camden with me and Richie instead.’

  ‘Addie came all the way to Ibiza for our album launch. The least I can do is go to the East End for hers.’

  His grip tightened around me. ‘Her album’ll get launched whether you’re there or not.’

  ‘I’m a featured vocalist on her current single.’ And, depending on who you ask, also her girlfriend. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  But it was more than that. Despite the pouring rain, and the skin-tight dress Saskia insisted I wear, and the fact that the place would be riddled with press, I was actually looking forward to it. Or at least, I was looking forward to seeing Addie. We had grown closer over the last few weeks as we flitted from appearance to interview, laughing together in the green rooms as we got our make-up done or sharing private jokes in the back of the car.

  ‘Richie says it’s an old-school gin palace. Amazing cocktail list.’

  ‘That’s a great way to entice a non-drinker,’ I said, and laughed. ‘What would I do there? Stand around platonically while girls drape themselves over you? No thanks.’

  I’d hoped that would shake him off, but his mood just deepened. ‘I’m not asking you to stand around platonically. You can make out with me on the dance floor if you like. That’s what I’d like.’

  ‘You know we can’t do that in public.’ I wriggled out of his grasp.

  ‘Well, when, Liliana?’ At some point between kissing me in Paris and here, I’d stopped being Jimi, and there were times when I missed the nickname, the easiness it had shown between us.

  ‘Maybe when the hype about the song has calmed down and Addie’s
onto her second single. I can’t be caught kissing you in a nightclub when I’ve just released a duet with my girlfriend.’

  He flinched. ‘It’s bad enough you call her that in interviews. I wish you wouldn’t do it around me.’

  •

  Night was falling as I was driven to a brick warehouse in East London. Men pressed their cameras against the car, their faces hidden by lenses, calling my name. I stepped into the commotion and waved before walking towards the door, trying not to think about how Carter and Richie had left the penthouse hours ago without a backward glance. The photos would be better if I didn’t scowl. I still didn’t like having to pose and wave, but by now at least I knew the group of photographers would split before me like I was radioactive – I didn’t have to push past them. ‘Lily! Over here!’ they called as I reached the door. I smiled over my shoulder so they could get a shot of the back of the dress, and then the door opened and I was inside.

  Addie’s album launch was a more exclusive gathering than ours. There were no fans here and only a select few journalists; apart from them, the guests had all worked on the album or were industry insiders chosen to leak information via word of mouth. Beatnik had an official photographer and everyone else surrendered their phones before being allowed in. Amir said the idea of inviting fans to the album launch for a star of Addie’s calibre was unthinkable, but privately I thought there was something sad about excluding the very people who had made her famous in the first place. The party felt muted, like no-one was really excited to be there.

  Saskia led me up the rickety stairs. A low red light pulsed in time with the thump of bass, and for a moment I wished I had blown this off to go out with Carter. If I was going to spend my night in a noisy, darkened room, a gin palace in Camden would probably be more fun.

  Most of the people were wearing day clothes and sipping slowly at tall glasses of Champagne, idly glancing around the room to record the details for later. A few enthusiastic fans would have livened it up, but as it was, there was a hint of tension, as if they wanted the album to flop. At least then they’d have something interesting to write about.

  An all-girl band was onstage, trying to tune up over the dance music. They were dressed in the standard uniform of black T-shirts and jeans, nothing that might pull focus from the main star. I recognised Toni, the session bassist from the studio, and waved.

  Addie was seated behind the stage, speaking confidently to a couple of reporters: one was the woman who had interviewed me and the boys for the cover of Rolling Stone. That had been weeks ago, before my fight with Phoenix – when I’d texted them about it, they had responded with three screens of excited emojis and promised to frame a copy. Now, I wondered if they still would. Addie was polished and plucked, not an eyelash out of place, the wig artfully brushed back from her face in a way that seemed totally casual but must have taken hours. I was startled by how beautiful she was – but also by how different her standoffish persona was from the girl I had got to know.

  But so was my own persona. Tonight I was Lily Donadi – Lady Stardust herself, and Addie Marmoset’s girlfriend. Her smile lit her face when I came in, and the journalists turned to look as she strode over to me.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘You can meet my mum.’

  I smiled back at her. ‘I’d love to.’

  As usual, I observed her while she gave interviews, hoping to absorb some of her composed, professional technique. She held my hand tight in her acrylic-tipped fingers, occasionally deferring to me when speaking about ‘Stargirl.’ Whenever she made a wry joke I laughed on cue. Her tone was polite and her expression always neutral, even when faced with questions about Val. My presence didn’t put them off asking about the break-up, particularly as there was speculation that some of the songs on the album were written about her – ridiculous when I knew Addie herself hadn’t penned a word. All twelve songwriters were here tonight, but they wouldn’t get any credit from the media.

  When Addie took to the stage, she gave a long, funny speech that seemed totally off-the-cuff, and I was flooded with embarrassment that I’d barely said anything at my album launch.

  ‘And finally I’d like to thank my beautiful girlfriend, Lily, who has been a source of constant support during the whole process, from beginning to end. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so lucky.’ She squinted into the audience. ‘Where are you? Come on up here.’

  The smile on my face was genuine, but I was surprised she’d called me to the stage. Amir had promised I wouldn’t be performing tonight and we had nothing rehearsed.

  ‘I love you, babe,’ she said, holding my face in her hands, and my stomach lurched before she leaned in and kissed me in front of everyone.

  I didn’t know what to do. My mind raced: Addie Marmoset is kissing me! Addie Marmoset said she loves me! And then I realised I couldn’t embarrass her in front of all these people, so I held steady and returned the kiss. I was kissing Addie Marmoset, and she was kissing me, and it didn’t feel like a staged kiss: it was soft and intimate and I wondered how many girls Addie had kissed for the cameras like this if she was so good at it. It was over in seconds and when she drew away she smiled, almost shyly. Then she said quietly, so no-one else could hear, ‘I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,’ and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. It hadn’t felt like a staged kiss because it wasn’t.

  •

  I slipped out the back while she was still onstage, without sticking around to meet her mum, without thinking about how it might look in front of the reporters, and told Saskia I was unwell and needed a car home. I felt like I had an ocean full of rips inside me, waves crashing and swirling over each other. In the lift up to my apartment, I rubbed my bare arms as though I could scrub the night from my skin. But was that really what I wanted? Under other circumstances, where I didn’t have a secret boyfriend and where there weren’t a hundred reporters watching, the kiss would have been … nice. Under other circumstances, I would have been ecstatic. Addie Marmoset had kissed me. She had kissed me. If Phoenix thought I was the one who had it bad for Addie, they had it all wrong.

  Phoenix. I desperately needed to talk to them, needed their help to untangle the mess in my head, but they still hadn’t responded to my texted apology. I texted them again, just a simple wave emoji, but I didn’t know if they would ever want to speak to me again.

  My phone buzzed as I let myself in, but it wasn’t Phoenix. It was a video message from Carter: me and Addie, shot from below the stage. Obviously at least one reporter had smuggled in a phone. The audio clanged but you could clearly make out Addie saying she loved me, and while I hadn’t thought the kiss went for long, it felt like an age when I imagined Carter watching it. I rang him right away but he didn’t pick up.

  Behind me, Sam’s door opened. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m … I don’t know.’ I gave him the phone and he watched the video, his brow knotted.

  ‘Wow.’ He squeezed my shoulder. ‘Looks like you’ve had quite a night.’

  ‘That’s an understatement.’

  He went over to the kettle and filled it with water. Sam’s default setting in a crisis was to make tea. ‘I’m guessing the kiss wasn’t planned?’ he said.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘So, what you’re saying is Addie basically assaulted you and now you’re feeling bad about it.’

  I gazed into the tea, steam rising from my mug. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  He stopped and looked at me. ‘What was it like, Donadi?’ It was a moment before I realised my hand was on my mouth, as if I could rub the kiss away with my fingers – or relive it, again and again. ‘We’ve been getting closer for a while. I thought we were just friends.’

  ‘You think Addie wants to be your girlfriend? Like, away from the cameras?’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean … it feels so arrogant to say that. Addie Marmoset can have whoever she wants. But tonight …’ I slumped onto my arms. ‘It felt real to me.’


  ‘And did you like it?’

  ‘I was too surprised to like it.’ I took a breath and admitted, ‘But … I mean … I didn’t dislike it.’

  ‘That’s kind of complicated by the fact that you have a boyfriend.’ He leaned back against the bench and looked at me. ‘A boyfriend who’s out getting papped with cute brunettes while you’re working. He should understand better than anyone that a grainy video isn’t necessarily the truth.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Richie and I used to have a joke – Carter Tanqueray: No One Here Gets Out Alive.’ The Doors reference made me smile despite myself. ‘You’ve got to be careful, Donadi. He’s got a self-destructive streak and he’ll take anyone nearby down with him. I’ve seen it a million times. He pulls people into his orbit and they get thrown into turmoil.’

  ‘Why is he like that?’ I said. It felt good to get it out. I had never been in knots like this over anyone before.

  His eyes were full of sympathy: for me or Carter, I couldn’t tell. ‘I think he’s got a gaping hole inside him, and he’s always tried to heal it with girls or drink or music, and he thought that if he got famous maybe that would heal it. And he’s finding that if anything, it’s made it worse, because you can’t expect that healing to come from others. It doesn’t matter how many people love you, you’ve got to love yourself.’

  ‘To survive the shark tank?’

  He smiled at the reference. He reached across the bench and squeezed my hands, his palm warm from holding the mug. ‘I think you’ll be OK, Donadi,’ he said. ‘You’ve just invested a lot of time and effort into someone who’s messing with your head.’

  And then my phone started buzzing on the bench. Amir’s name flashed up and I grabbed it, my heart sinking, knowing he would never call this late for any good reason.

  CHAPTER 38

  I charged out into the hallway, racing down the fire escape without waiting for the lift, Sam close behind. We spilled out the revolving doors into the still, claustrophobic darkness to meet the taxi.